Summary

"What do you want him to do?" Drake snapped. "Admit that he's a little bit worried about you because you fucking died?"

Damian was on his feet before he knew what happened. He couldn't breathe for the hate burning in his chest. How dare Drake talk about it. How dare he preach as though he agreed. "I'm surprised you pretend to give a fuck, Drake," he hissed, derision and bitterness dripping from the words. "I...I would have thought you were happy I was gone!"

He didn't think about the words until after they left his mouth, after the Cave was deadly silent and the sentence echoed through the room, hung in the air like smoke. Drake's chest was heaving, but he didn't say a word, and his eyes were so dark that Damian actually took a step back in irrational fear. Abruptly, Drake shoved his chair back with a screech, and left without a word, his footsteps resounding through the cave. Damian watched him go, numb._____________Alternatively, Damian has misjudged Drake, and guilt isn't something he's used to dealing with.